


Miss missing you

by Kpooping



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Clubbing, College - AU, Drinking, Ex's and Oh's, Keith is emotional, M/M, Making Out, Pidge and Hunk try to make a plan, Reunion ??, Smut, a lot of feelings, and feelings, i guess ??, love making, my first klance smut oh god, only pidge is underage little plum, sex under the influence of alcohol, slightly angsty, spoiler: it fails, they're both drunk and horny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:38:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kpooping/pseuds/Kpooping
Summary: "W-why?" Keith's voice was shaky, irises fearfully swimming over Lance's tan complex."Why did you leave m-me? Why did you leave me like that and decided t-to appear tonight, j-just like that, looking so goddamn sexy and--""K-Keith-" Lance tries, his shoulders hurting from how much Keith was gripping on them. "No, Lance, let me finish." He spoke, voice ignited with hurt and unspoken feelings he was getting ready to spill."You left me a-alone. Thinking it's best for /us/ a-and concluding that I'll b-be happier without you, b-but oh my God, Lance, when I woke up that d-day to find the bed empty, for the first time in my life I felt terrified. It took me weeks. /Weeks/ to finally a-accept that you're gone and it took me m-months to get over you but all that I've realized tonight, after seeing you three m-months after, is that it's impossible to get over you, Lance McClain.."





	

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to my new cool friend i already love u know who u are girlie ily
> 
>  
> 
> also instead of updating Teach Me i write this god help

He doesn't know how many shots he had downed; only that the world was already spinning and his head was pulsing with adrenaline, people were moving blotches and he could see sounds.   
Keith's grip was loose against the small shot glass he still held, even though it was gaping empty. There was a girl next to him, tall and slim and sexy, lips plump and outfit revealing.   
  
Too bad he wasn't into chicks.   
  
He politely declined her offers to go dancing, and she didn't seem too offended. Girl like her could get any man around her finger. Keith turned around, back pressing against the wooden bar his elbows were resting moments ago. The club was wild ad to his own personal surprise, he didn't feel too sorry that he was missing all the dancing and partying. He could see Shiro with Allura, dancing somewhere in the middle of dozens of bodies. He smiled at the image of his best friend, trying to pull some of his 'sexy' moves on his girlfriend but his shimmying was lame and while Keith would tease him about it, Allura only pressed her agile body closer, showing him how it's done.   
  
Keith used to dance a lot. Keith used to go clubbing, late night walks and midnight swims, he used to be a happy man.  
  
With _him_.  
  
  
  
  
♦  
  
  
  
  
"Lance, for the nth time I'm _begging_ you to-"  
  
  
"But I'm _not done_ yet!!"  
  
  
"I don't _care_ how long does it take you to style your hair just let me piss!" Pidge banged their fist against the locked door, then pressing their forehead on the dark wood.   
  
There was a clicking sound and the door creaked open, with one of Lance's eyes peeping through the hole. "If you only said _please_ I would have-"  
  
" _Move._ " Pidge growls and pushed the door open, hitting Lance's forehead in the process.  
  
" _Ow_! Jesus Christ, consider my beauty?!" Lance wails dramatically, hurrying to the mirror to check on his forehead. Luckily, no red marks left.   
  
Pidge only rolled their eyes, unbuttoned their jeans and shoved them down, not even slightly uncomfortable by Lance's presence. They've known each other for years now, and peeing in front of each other was considered a normal thing now.  
"I hope that you're ready because Hunk called a taxi, it's going to be here in ten minutes." They murmured.  
  
Lance nodded, finishing his look by slightly curving the wing of his eyeliner. It wasn't much, only a thin line above his eyelashes, that made his eyes look bigger and prominent. Like the vibrant blue color of them wasn't enough. Pidge watched him fix his hair and roll their eyes; Lance took so long to get ready, their and Hunk's time combined. He was a girl, honestly, needing to look flawless even just for a short trip to the shop.  
  
Pidge knew why, though. Lance was extremely insecure. He hid it behind his cockiness and arrogance, jokes and makeup. He completely changed since the...the Great depression™, as they called it. Pidge and Hunk agreed to never speak of _him_ again.  
  
"Planning on getting yourself some fine ass tonight?" Pidge asked, finishing with peeing and reaching for the toilet paper.   
  
Lance's eyes widened and he spluttered out a laugh. "Pidge Gunderson! Did you just say ' _fine ass_ '? Oh my _God_ this is gold, I need to write this down!" He cackled, fishing for his phone in his pocket. "What's the date today?? What's the time?"  
  
Pidge snorted, rolling their eyes and flushing. "It's not a big deal, I can have your trash mouth from time to time."  
  
"Still, I need proof that this had happened. In ten years from now on you're going to own this shit big tech company and have a really important meeting about your investments or some shit and I'll come there, show you this and remind you that you asked me will I be getting some _fine ass_ and totally embarrass you in front of your co workers."   
  
"Woah. Evil plan you're plotting there. Would you feel better if I said appealing buttocks instead?"  
  
"No, you ruined it now." Lance sighs, and lowers his phone, but the words are already saved in his notes.   
  
"Good. Are you ready to go? Hunk's waiting." Pidge fixes their classy button up, tucked into a pair of black ripped jeans. They decided to wear something..different tonight, albeit their outfit is always consisted of lazy clothes and hoodies. They're going into one of the most popular clubs, after all.   
  
  
"Finally, someone decided to show up." Hunk comments, but there's no mean tone to his voice. Hunk physically (and emotionally) can't be mean, Lance assumed there are no negative adjectives in his description.   
  
"Sorry, Pidge peed for too long."  
  
Pidge gasped softly. "Blame it on the youngest! As always!"   
  
Lance smirked, elbowing his best friend lightly. He turned to Hunk: "Hunk, did you know that Pidge just said--"  
  
"LANCE shut up!" Pidge was quick to interrupt, realising where the other was going with that.   
  
"Pidge said what?" Hunk murmured confusedly.   
  
"Fine a-"  
  
"Pidge said nothing!! Let's just go the taxi is waiting!" They manage to shush Lance but the wink he gives Hunk is a telltale sign he's going to find out sooner or later, anyway.   
  
  
  
  
  
♦  
  
  
  
The big flashy sign at the entrance of the club gives away the exact atmosphere inside. Club Altea was one of the biggest and most popular clubs in all New York and Lance couldn't be happier they got the tickets to the Party of the year, with a capital ' _p_ '.  
  
"I kind of have a bad feeling about this." Hunk says once they exit the cab, fixing his yellow sleeveless shirt he had on.   
  
Lance only snorts. His outfit is maybe too tight, too revealing; jeans white and clinging to his legs and ass, leaving nothing to the imagination, shirt tucked into the rim, sky blue and hanging off his lean body. "I feel like this is gong to be the best night of my life!" He proclaims, having to talk louder since the heavy bass was so loud even outside the club.   
  
Pidge says nothing, masking their nervousness with a bright grin, taking Hunk's arm around theirs, then Lance's. "Boys, lets go get shitfaced." He says, making both of the boys by their side choke on their spit.   
  
  
  
The club is exactly like Lance imagined it. Large, spacious, filled with people to the top. There's a large open bar at one of the corners but he doesn't think he can make his way to it just yet. He can see stairs that led to the top floor, a terrace that overlooked the large dance floor. The music was loud, something electronic and it already got his feet working, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Oh boy, this was going to be an amazing night. He just _knew_ it.   
  
"I'm going to get us some drinks!" Hunk said; he was a big fella, therefore he could easily push through the crowd. Lance and Pidge nodded, hands clasping tight together when they dived into the crowd.   
  
The plan was.. well. There was no plan. They were in it to have some fun (read: "get shitfaced" - pidge 1k16) and probably catch some fine boys and/or girls to have fun with. Simple, harmless and blood boiling.  Dance their feet off and collapse into bed at 5 am, then wake up late the day after and order a pizza.   
  
Lance located a small empty spot on the dance floor, immediately pulling Pidge in to join him. They already knew the drill; dance, allure, seduce, use and move along. They've developed the tactic over the months of going clubbing, and whilst Lance fished the most, Pidge and Hunk remained in the back, hooting and hollering after him.  
  
While shoving his tongue down someone else's throat, he didn't think of him. For at least full half an hour he felt numb and wasted, unable to hold his head up and being so low and pathetic like that, Lance felt the best. Focusing on the nausea in his stomach and not throwing up all over himself, Keith was pushed to the back of his mind and even though he knew it won't last forever, this perfect bliss of unawareness between life and death, Lance held onto it like it's the last time Keith won't swim into his head and shatter another piece of his ruined soul.   
  
  
Pidge grabbed his hands. They pulled him closer and smirked, getting started, full force, as the new song began playing. Lance's smirk matched the younger and he joined in immediately, rolling his body and working his legs, freestyling the shit out of the song. He was about to shimmy his hips again and turn around, where he noticed a heavy gaze on his own, and it made his heart pump faster. A very hot, young boy was shamelessly checking him out, sticking with his group of dancing friends as if he was shy to approach.   
  
Lance could only smirk, and do another sinful roll of his hips, then turning around so his back was facing him. He decided to be a massive tease and sway his hips to the rhythm, hoping the guy was watching a little show he was putting on. It would be such a shame, the guy was a _cutie_. He lost sight of Pidge; he probably went to help Hunk get the drinks, but he was more than fine on his own. Atmosphere was amazing, making his bones vibrate and his head spin, but in that good, careless way. No Keith. No keith tonight.  
Suddenly, there was a pair of arms on his hips and he smirked, turning around and seeing the guy he was hoping it would be. The owner of the hands pulled him closer and Lance thought this was the easiest catch he's ever decoyed. So he let loose, pressing to him and letting his body do the work.  
  
  
  
Hunk was sweating. No, not because of the squished bodies and obvious high temperature in the club. It was because of his shaky hands around the glasses, threatening to shatter them, and the nervousness his big heart pumped throughout his whole body.  
  
"Shitshitshitsht--" He kept cursing, he couldn't find Pidge, he couldn't find Lance, _oh god, where were they?_ He turned around frantically, standing on his tip toes and looking around and finally, he spotted Pidge. They were having fun with a smaller group of people, dancing and laughing, but their gazes met and the panicked look in Hunk's eyes was enough to make their face straighten, immediately recognizing his facial expression. Trouble. Ž  
  
Pidge pushed their way towards Hunk, and the taller man led him through the crowd, towards the somewhat cleared area around the bar. He pushed the glass in Pidge's hand, drinking his immediately, as if only alcohol would let him think rationally right now.   
  
"H-he's here." He spoke, voice shaking.  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Pidge, he's here I--"  
  
"Shit, how do you know its him?" Pidge said, downing their glass as well, leaving it on the bar.   
  
"He didn't cut that damn mullet since the last time we saw him. Which was like, over three months ago. He didn't change one bit, _I'm sure_ it was him."  
  
"Oh g-god. Where is he? Where is Lance? I totally lost him. I lost Lance, Hunk they can't meet we-"  
  
"I saw him by the bar, he's still sitting there I think. God, where is Lance? We have to find Lance!" Hunk went crazy, his eyes switching to the dance floor, and oh god, it's going to be impossible to find him now.   
  
"They can't meet, they can't see each other! Hunk, we need to part them on the opposite sides of the club!" Pidge shrieked, his fingers twitching from worry and nervousness. "Lance can't see him, _oh god_ , he won't be able to sleep for days, this is supposed to be one of his nights out when he forgets about everything and I-"  
  
"I know! I have a plan!" Hunk jumped, interrupting Pidge in the middle of their ranting. Their green eyes immediately settle on their best friend.   
  
"Keith is on the other side of the bar, close to the north wall so we have to push Lance deeper into the crowd on the south, yeah?!" He says, trying to outloud the music. Pidge nods.   
"Bathroom is on the very end of the club so if you, if you could making him go there somehow, make him dance there for the rest of the night, that would slimmer the chances of them seeing each other okay?!" Hunk yells and Pidge nods again. "I'll keep an eye on Keith! If he moves I'll text you, check your phone!"   
  
"Deal!" Pidge agrees and, downing another shot, turns around and they part ways. The lengths he'd go for his best friend. How fucking splendid.   
  
  
Pidge finds Lance easily, he didn't move from the spot they previously had danced on. Hes dancing too close to a random guy Pidge has never seen before, and he's grabbing Lance's waist too suggestively, but Lance only teasingly slips away, only to lure him into coming again. Pidge rolls their eyes and steps between them, facing the guy. "Fuck off, he's got a boyfriend!" He shouts over the music and feels Lance grip his shoulders from the back.   
The guy shoots Lance a look and doesn't seem s interested anymore, turning around and leaving.   
  
"Pidge what the fuck! I so had him wrapped around my finger!" Lance complains, throwing his arms in the air. "Don't try to sabotage me just because you're _jealous_!"  
  
  
Pidge spits the first lie that comes out of their brain. "H-hunk is throwing up in the bathroom!" they say, voice a little uncertain and it sounded rather like a question than a statement. "I n-need you to go check on him, quick! I'm going to g-get him a glass of water!" He says, completely forgetting that there are actual sinks. With water. In the bathroom.   
  
Fortunately, Lance is stupid enough to buy it. Pidge hates the guilt he feels in the pit of their stomach when he sees Lance's expression shift from slight annoyance to worry and he's nodding, immediately turning around and storming off towards the bathroom.   
  
Inside Pidge's pocket, his phone buzzes.   
  
  
**Hunk [12:04 am]:** _Pidge_  
  
**Hunk [12:04 am]:** _do nOT send Lance to the bathroom !!_  
  
**Hunk [12:04 am]:** _Keith got up, hes heading there i think, i repeat, DO NOT send Lance to the bathroom, abort the mission!!_  
  
**Hunk [12:05 am]:** _I swear to god pidge answer me i hope you didnt send lance to the bathroom this is a matter of life and death_  
  
**Hunk [12:05 am]:** _yep. we are so done, and its all your fault, pidge gunderson  
  
  
  
  
_  
♦ _  
  
  
  
  
  
_ Keith feels like throwing up. Not the _'I'm so wasted and having fun at a party'_ kind of throwing up. It was the ' _I'm so sick of my life and constantly getting drunk to forget about him'_ kind of throwing up and Keith knew if he collapsed in that shitty bathroom cubicle he would stay there for the rest of the night.   
He got off the bar stood, leaving the half drank glass on the table. He's had enough. He's going to wash up, punch a mirror, try and slice his wrists with the shards and then find Shiro and Allura and tell them he's going home. It was a perfect little plan, already accepting the fact he's going to spend the rest of the night crying into his pillow and contemplating suicide.  
  
Keith was a broken man and it was written on his forehead.   
  
He climbs up the small stairs that lead to the bathroom and thinks that whoever designed the club, didn't consider drunk bodies trying to go up and down these stairs in order to get to the bathroom. He should really write a complaint.   
He is drunk but not enough to be wavy on his feet, so he makes it to the men's restroom safely enough. Luckily, no one is in (yet) and he takes the liberty of fucking using all of the cubicles. He pisses in each one, music subsided due to the thick walls separating the restroom from the main area. It feels unreal, as if his body is stuck on earth but his soul is not, and just when he was about to release a loud sob the doors creak open.  
  
He listens to the hurried footsteps enter the bathroom, and then they stop. Keith is in the last cubicle so he assumes no one would bother to go there first if the plenty of others are open.  
  
"Hunk?" The voice is soft, kind of raspy but definitely deep enough for it to be a male.   
"Hunk, are you there?"  
  
Keith snorts, zips his jeans and collapses onto the toilet. "Who the fuck would name their child Hunk?" He thinks outloud, making another drunk cackle.   
  
He feels as if the atmosphere in the bathroom shifts to something warm, utterly unpleasant.   
  
"Who said that?" The voice demands and Keith think's he's heard him before. In college, maybe? On his training? It could be possible, he doesn't know half of the kids from archery.   
  
Suddenly he hears the cubicle doors opening, one by one. The man must be pretty upset by Keith's remark since the squeaking of the door indicates how hard he's pushing them back, and suddenly he regrets saying anything. Holy shit, he's so drunk and wasted, he wouldn't be able to defend himself if they pick a fight.   
  
"Where are you!?" The voice murmurs, a little annoyed and then the last door are opening and it's Keith's cubicle and oh god, the lights are hitting his eyes and--  
  
  
And he sees, possibly, the most beautiful man on earth.   
  
  
He's tall, and slim, and his body is shiny with thin layer of sweat and for the first time in three months he feels something. Epiphany, perhaps, because he's not drunk anymore and his eyes are widening and he can see now and he's realizing--

  
"K-keith..?" The man chokes out, taking a cautious step backward. His back hits the sink behind and he grabs onto it not to fall.   
  
It's him, Keith knows its him. He doesn't even have to see him properly, doesn't need to be close to realise that its him because his heart is beating again, and he feels alive, and he feels like he could breathe again.   
  
"L-Lance." He says, and the weight that's lifted off his chest is immense. He stands up, takes a step forward and immediately collapses to the ground. He's falling, oh fuck, he's falling again and there was no one to catch him before he hits the solid, rock bottom.  
  
Except, no, his shoulders are suddenly gripped and he's being pushed up to sit, ass pressing to his heels. He looks up, and sees Lance, so fucking beautiful it hurts him physically.   
  
"K-Keith, what the fuck, d-did you take something?" he asks, and Keith begs him not to stop talking because he needs to hear his voice.   
  
"N-no. I'm drunk." he answers honestly, his shoulders sagging. He has to make sure this is real. He reaches out to touch Lance's cheek and before he even could, Lance flinches back as if burnt. Keith laughs sourly.  
  
"W-what are you doing here?"  
  
"It's S-Shiro's birthday, him and Allura..and me are here.." He says, eyes wandering over Lance's face. His cheeks are tinted pink, eyes wide and oh god, is that eyeliner? and his lips are parted, chapped and pursed in a confused 'o'. He changed so much. That, or Keith's vision was completely ruined by the alcohol percentage in his blood. He's still so ethereally beautiful. "Y-you?"  
  
"I j-just came..with friends.." Lance answers, but it's not whole and he's confused, he's scared and intimidated. Keith learned to read his body language too well, no detail could slip past him.   
"I have to go." Lance mutters after no one says anything after a while. "L-look for a friend.." He trails off, and he's telling something that Keith can't comprehend because his brain is screaming at him and all he could hear is static.  
  
He panics; Lance is leaving him, again, and the walls are closing in and he isn't able to breathe. His chest won't function, ribs won't expand when needed. Lance is already on his feet, dusting himself off and he's leaving, his walk is shaky and no, _no, NO_.  
  
Keith stands up, his knees wobble as he closes the distance between them and clasps his hand around Lance's wrist. He's got him by surprise because he jumps, turning around to look at him.   
  
"K-Keith, what are you--" Lance doesn't get to finish because Keith is pulling him away from the door, spinning around and pressing against the wall, hands gripping his shoulders.   
  
They look at each other. Lance looks frightened, as if he's about to cry any second and his eyeliner is smudged around the corners of his eyes.   
  
"Why?" Keith whispers, croaks, his voice is painful.  
  
Lance's eyelashes flutter prettily but Keith knows he's fighting his tears. "W-why, what?"

"W-why?" Keith's voice was shaky, irises fearfully swimming over Lance's tan complex.  
"Why did you leave m-me? Why did you leave me like that and decided t-to appear tonight, j-just like that, looking so goddamn sexy and--"

"K-Keith-" Lance tries, his shoulders hurting from how much Keith was gripping on them.

"No, Lance, let me finish." He spoke, voice ignited with hurt and unspoken feelings he was getting ready to spill.

"You left me a-alone. Thinking it's best for _us_  a-and concluding that I'll b-be happier without you, b-but oh my God, Lance, when I woke up that d-day to find the bed empty, for the first time in my life I felt terrified. It took me weeks. _Weeks_ to finally a-accept that you're gone and it took me m-months to get over you but all that I've realized tonight, after seeing you three m-months after, is that it's impossible to get over you, Lance McClain.."   
  
Keith finishes his little rant and by the time he pronounced Lance's last name, he's crying. He's crying so uncontrollably his shoulders shake and he loosens his grip on Lance's shoulders. Lance is looking at him, shocked, eyes wide and mouth ajar. He doesn't know what to say, Keith thinks, he's fucked up. Again.  
  
"I f-fucking hate you." Lance finally speaks and it wasn't what Keith was hoping for. "I f-fucking hate you, Keith, b-because you made me f-feel like the happiest man on Earth every time I woke up next to you and t-then you fucking shattered me when you let me go so easily. Y-you didn't even fight for me and I t-thought I wasn't worth it. I w-was constantly blaming myself and I c-can't stop thinking about you, I fucking can't get you out of my fucking head and you _dare_ to say this to me? _You_ fucking _dare_ to say how you've been hurting while every day of my fucking life I've been living like a zombie, existing only because I had to, because my family would've been shattered to see how their son is fucking rotting w-without the only thing in t-this world that was making him sane."

Lance pauses and swallows thickly, his brows are furrowed and he's so fucking mad at Keith, he's balling his hands into fists. 

"You're so f-fucking selfish because you're not the only one who's been hurting and I fucking loved you like no one on this world loved someone else and I still fucking l-love you but you're g-gone and I--"

And Lance never gets to say anything else because Keith is grabbing his blue shirt and pulling him forward, and suddenly their lips are against each other. 

Keith is leaning up on his tip toes, pressing his mouth against Lance's in what feels like forever. It feels like heaven, it feels as if his problems were finally lifted off his shoulders and he feels like he could fly, because holy fuck he's kissing Lance. His Lance. His baby boy he had loved more than his own skin. 

Lance seems as if this was all he's been craving for because the moment their lips meet, his arms are flying forward, wrapping around Keith's waist and pulling him in. His fingers are deep into his shirt, curling around the red material. One hand isn't satisfied with the lack of space so it flies up into his hair, snagging ahold of the black strands and tugging him forward.

Keith feels something wet mushing against his cheeks and in a split of a second he realises that Lance is crying. He's kissing him and he's crying, his body is shaking but his lips are so desperately drinking Keith's in, as if the air Keith pushes into his lungs is all that's keeping him alive. 

Who knows, at that moment, it might've been.

 

 

 

♦

 

 

 

Lance doesn't know how they got into Keith's apartment that fast. All he could remember was them kissing, and then Keith asked if he wanted to go home with him and Lance nodded without hesitation. He remembers texting Pidge and Hunk, something similar to ' _I'm going home with Keith, don't worry'._

He doesn't think they will believe him, but quite honestly, he doesn't believe either.

 

He remembers sitting in a taxi and Keith immediately pulling him against his chest and kissing again, until they're breathless and the driver is visibly uncomfortable. They're stumbling out of the taxi and Keith is throwing money bills inside for the man to pick them up. He's being pulled up all too familiar staircase that he visited more than one hundred times. Keith is trying to unlock the door but Lance's arms are around his waist, his mouth is against his neck and Keith is groaning, knees weak already.   
  
They're on a couch, Keith's hands are pushed under his shirt and Lance's thin legs are around his hips. It doesn't feel like three months. It feels like it's barely been a week and the hole in both of their hearts is slowly filling up.   
  
"Off, _off_." Keith orders and tugs at his shirt; Lance is pushing himself up to sit and grab the hem of his shirt so he could lift it up and over his head. His skin feels so much cooler without the sweaty material off, and his hungry hands reach for Keith's shirt as well.  
  
Keith sits back on his heels, brushing Lance's hands away to pull at his shirt and take it off, accompanying Lance's on the floor. He sinks between his spread legs, bare skin of their chests touching. The world stops spinning and It's only them.  
  
Keith holds himself up above lance, breathless and sweaty, eyes wide and mouth open. He's watching Lance, admiring him, drinking him in and Lance feels so small and so fucking vulnerable.   
  
"K-Keith.." He whispers weakly, his palms lifting up and cupping his face. Lance's fingers are long and thin, touching his cheekbone and brushing against his jaw. "D-don't cry." Lance says softly, and the friskiness from before completely evaporates.   
  
The pale man smiles, shaking his head clumsily, tear drops falling on Lance's bare chest. "I'm sorry." he says, and dips himself down on his elbows, cradling Lance's head in his hands. He admires his face, thin and soft, with the gentles slope of his nose to the timid look in his eyes, full of emotion and love he can't hide. Keith feels complete, and that's probably the thing that fuels him to lean down and kiss him again.   
  
It's much softer this time. Their lips align together perfectly, as if they were made to fit like puzzle pieces. Keith tilts his head to the right and Lance leans the opposite way, noses brushing together clumsily. He cups Lance's bottom lip between his teeth, biting on it gently. He tugs it back, teasing the flesh between his teeth. It used to draw Lance crazy and- Lance moans, back arching up and fingertips pressing to Keith's shoulders. Oh, guess it still does.  
  
Lance's hand tangles in Keith's hair, and it's already messy and tangled but Lance loves it. His other hand, however, trails over Keith's spine, touching the hills and dips, before he reaches the hem of his jeans. He tugs at them gently, hips lifting up and brushing their crotches together. The contact makes them both groan, bodies too sensitive to be touching like that. They both need more and suddenly the exposed skin wasn't enough, more skin, less clothes.   
  
Keith parts his mouth from Lance's soft lips, kissing down his jaw and under his chin, down his throat and over his Adam's apple. He sucks it gently in his mouth, feeling it vibrate when Lance moaned.   
  
"Y-you always l-loved to tease." Lance grins, and feels Keith's warm breath on his collarbones as he chuckles.   
  
"You loved to be teased." Ravenette remarks, biting gently onto his collarbone. Lance doesn't say anything else, only appreciates the affection and writhes into Keith's touch. He's dropping kisses between his pectoral muscles, tongue shying out to taste his skin. It's soft, slightly salty from sweat but god so beautiful it was almost sinful. Keith's hands are holding Lance's ribs; his body is so lean and agile he feels his muscles moving under his mouth, as he kisses down his abs. Keith's thumbs gently swipe over Lance's nipples and the contact makes Lance writhe harder. He's so embarrassingly stiff in his jeans already, he wishes Keith would hurry the fuck up but the black haired man loves to slowly torture.   
  
Keith finally reaches his navel, mouthing at the clean, shaven skin. Lance was never a fan of pubic hair on his own body, and he was always smooth and shaven, so clean and pure whenever Keith used to touch him. He sees that the times haven't changed, and he smiles below his bellybutton.   
  
"K-Keith.." Lance whines, and it rolls off into a high moan.   
  
"Hmm..?" Keith hums, sucking a hickey somewhere at his hipbone. Lance feels completely wrecked already and they haven't even started yet.   
  
"P-please, kiss me again." Lance is shy asking this, but he feels Keith smile against his skin and the older man is sliding up again, pressing his mouth against his.   
  
They kiss, and Lance feels Keith doing his jeans open, lifting his hips to help him slide the fabric off. His briefs get caught by his hardening length, and while his jeans rest around his thighs, stubborn boxers are still glued to his hips. Keith is not hurrying, and as much as he wants Lance, wants to take him and own him again, he wants to go slow and thorough. His palm cups over the bulge in Lance's briefs, and the tanned boy underneath him jerks his hips up, releasing a high moan. Keith loves it. He's palming his erection, undoing his own jeans with the other hand until they're down, low, around his knees and he's kicking them off.   
  
He helps Lance out of his jeans too, and the only thing separating them now are two thin layers of fabric. Keith pulls away from Lance's mouth and looks him in the eyes. Beautifully blue, they glisten in the darkness.   
  
"L-Lance--"  
  
"I'm sure." he says before he could ask. "I'm n-not drunk. And I..I'm sure." He repeats, big palm cupping one of Keith's cheeks. Keith is a little drunk but he can still think straight, he can still make love to Lance, his Lance.   
  
They're kissing again, feverishly drinking each other in, trying not to get too frisky because they want it to last. Keith slowly pushes Lance's briefs down, and his hard on springs up, curving against his stomach prettily. Lance takes a sharp inhale in the same moment Keith groans. His fingers are around him again, wrapping around his length and he's just holding him, remembering how it felt, smiling against Lance's throat because he's so impossibly hard and warm.

He tugs gently, moving his wrist up and running down, testing what Lance likes. Everything's pleasing him in this moment because he's moaning, high pitched and beautiful, throwing his head back. He's lazily jerking him off, peppering his neck with kisses and pumping him to full hardness, his own briefs wet and tight around him, pressing to Lance's thigh. 

"I d-don't have lube." Keith suddenly remembers, and Lance snorts a small laugh. 

It makes Lance kind of happy, it means he hasn't been having a lot of sex so he didn't need lube at all. 

Or it could mean he's been having so much sex he already spent everything. He liked the first ides better. 

"We c-can buy one tomorrow." Lance whispers, and Keith's heart jump in his throat because holy shit, Lance wants to stay?

He nods, hand immediately getting to work again, reassured by new energy. He squeezes his fingers around Lance's dick, tan and flushed dark red. He wants to taste it on his tongue but he's impatient, and there was tomorrow, as Lance hinted it. 

He lets go of Lance's dick, to push his own briefs down. It's hard sliding them off his erection, that stands straight and fights against the underwear, but hes managed to get them off and now, they're both naked and there's nothing between them anymore. 

Keith lowers down, aligning his dick with Lance's. They both groan; Keith a little low and raspy whilst Lance writhes up, arching his back. They feel perfect against each other. 

Keith's body is weak as he collapses on top of Lance, trying to control his breathing but everything was driving him insane. Every inch of their bodies was touching, and it did things to him, because Keith only got harder in his hand, smearing precum against Lance's navel. 

"G-God, just please, Keith-" Lance begs, interrupted by a moan when Keith wraps his fingers around both of their lengths.

It feels heavenly. They're almost one again and he never felt so alive in these past three months like he's feeling now, Lance thinks. His fingers bury into Keith's hair and he wishes they could kiss again, but Keith's head is dipped down and kissing Lance's chest, focusing on his hand that held their dicks pressed together. 

And then he slowly started to stroke, squeezing downwards, then releasing his hold as he slid it up. Keith was in love with Lance's moans, so loud and shaky and lost. He was in love with his hands, gripping on his back and burying into his hair, tugging wildly. 

He found a pleasant rhythm, and he wanted to be inside Lance right now, fucking him slowly, thoroughly, making love- but they were out of lube and condoms. And Lance promised him a tomorrow.

"K-Keith, god, it feels so good--" he whines, legs wrapped around Keith's hips. They slide down clumsily and spread further, starting to fuck Keith's fist. 

Oh, how he missed this. Intimacy, feelings, touches and kisses with the person that meant the world to you. The person you lay your whole love in, and they return it equally. Lance curls his arm around Keith's neck, pressing his lips to his throat, then the shell of his ear. 

"I love you.." he whispered, voice breaking and he felt like sobbing. 

Keith's eyes widen and he grips on their cocks, hold a little tighter and pace a little faster. 

"F-Fuck, Lance I, I love you so stupidly much-" Keith admits and cries a groan into his skin when Lance starts rolling his hips. 

They continue saying it against each others skin, whispering it between their kisses, pressing against each other. Keith sucks hickeys into Lance's neck and Lance's fingers leave marks on his back. Their bodies work together, riding and fucking into Keith's hand, that's getting slick and sticky from precum. 

Lance doesn't know how long were they at it, and frankly he doesn't care because he has Keith close, again, telling him how precious he is. He only starts caring when Keith speeds up his pace and hits the bundle of nerves in the pit of Lance's stomach, and he knows that he's close. 

"K-Keith oh my god, I'm so c-close--!" He warns, thighs squeezing Keith's hips firmly, body starting to tremble. 

It hits him like a tidal wave and he comes messily onto his stomach. The pleasure is intense, he can't stop shaking and Keith is still jerking them off, and he is overstimulated and sensitive. 

Keith comes a minute after, with loud and deep grunts pressed against Lance's skin, hips rolling down expertly to ride out their orgasms. 

They stop shaking maybe few minutes later, breathing heavily and basking in the aftermath of a good orgasm. Keith is on top of Lance, laying between his legs, cheek on his chest. Lance's fingers stroke his hair, playing with the dark strands. He loves him. He does. 

"Can we s-stay like this? I'm too tired to move." Lance murmured with closed eyes, hair pushed back off of his forehead. 

Keith nods, and presses his nose further into the column of his throat. "I love you, Lance. I never stopped loving you." He says again. 

Lance smiles, because Keith had repeated that five times in two minutes already. But he loved him, adored him for it, for reassuring him so much. 

Keith is magical, Lance concludes. He's been waiting for months, he's been forcing himself to survive another day because Lance was living too and Keith admitted to Lance that the only reason he is still breathing, is because Lance is too. 'I live for you, Lance. I live with you. And just like that, I'm going to die for you. Die with you.'

"I know, Keith. I love you too. Never fucking stopped.."


End file.
